


You had my heart inside your hand (and you played it to the beat)

by Elisexyz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Grant is a lying liar who lies but I love him anyway, Kidnapping, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-25 10:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16659155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: “Grant,” she hisses, and she can’t remember ever being genuinely pissed at him. Frustrated, maybe. Angry-worried, certainly. But not like this, not the kind of pissed that masks an hint of fear. “What is going on?” she repeats, slowly.He sighs, glancing at her briefly before going back to staring at the road.“SHIELD has moles,” he finally announces. “I’m one of those. I was instructed to take you away.”





	You had my heart inside your hand (and you played it to the beat)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tumblr prompt: [34\. “I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.” + Biospecialist](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/180526082754/i-turned-out-liking-you-a-lot-more-that-i). I loved this one, it's perfect for Grant I-Can't-Pick-A-Side Ward.

Jemma wakes up feeling vaguely nauseous.

Her first thought is that she must have forgotten to have dinner the previous evening: maybe she fell asleep while working, considering the sharp pains shooting through her neck. Then her eyes properly focus on her surroundings, and she realizes that she’s sitting in a moving car, with Grant at the wheel and—and cuffs around her wrists.

“What’s going on?” she asks, her tongue heavy and the words slightly slurred as she tries to clear her head: she’s pretty sure that she was in her room, chatting with Grant after he came back from a three-days-long mission. She can’t for the life of her remember what exactly she’s supposed to be doing in his car, let alone why the handcuffs.

She automatically starts testing the restrains, as if hoping that they’d come off with a simple gesture.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, dodging the question and avoiding her eyes.

“Like I have no idea what’s going on,” she remarks, sharply. He isn’t getting away with it, she wants answers, and she wants them _now_. She has a bad feeling about this.

Grant’s jaw tightens, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to answer anytime soon. Jemma is one second away from smacking him.

“ _Grant_ ,” she hisses, and she can’t remember ever being genuinely pissed at him. Frustrated, maybe. Angry-worried, certainly. But not like this, not the kind of pissed that masks an hint of fear. “What is going on?” she repeats, slowly.

He sighs, glancing at her briefly before going back to staring at the road.

“SHIELD has moles,” he finally announces. “I’m one of those. I was instructed to take you away.”

Jemma blinks at him, unsure of how to register what he just said. Moles? What moles? Take her away? To do what, and why _him_? How _can_ he— then it hits her.

“How long exactly have you been planning this?” she asks, quietly. She already knows the answer.

He gives her a quick, guilty look. Or at least, what he wants her to believe is guilt. She probably shouldn’t trust anything he says or does anymore.

“Sorry,” he only mumbles.

Jemma’s lips twist into a bitter smile, as she snorts and shakes her head slightly. Well, _of course_. She should have seen it coming. Attractive specialist randomly takes interest in her, is kind and attentive, if a bit of a moron, and seemingly _enjoys_ listening to her talking science even though he barely understands any of it? There’s a reason why it’s never happened before.

Really, how is it surprising that it was all for show, a way to lure her in and _kidnap_ her? God, it’s been seven months and a half. Plenty of time to properly fall for the bastard, as far as she’s concerned.

“You could have just grabbed me the first day instead of putting up the whole act,” she says, trying to keep her tone as even as possible, although it’s probably way too clear how much it _hurts_.

He lied to her all this time, and she believed every word, like a little fool.

“That would have arisen suspicions and launched a search party,” he counters, and _his_ tone is perfectly neutral. Lying bastard. “If people know we are together, it’s not weird for me to ask for a couple of days of vacation, we both never use those.”

“And what happens when I don’t come back?” she asks, quietly, and for the first time she stops to think past the fact that it’s _Grant_ of all people taking her away and she wonders _where_ exactly she’s headed. What they plan on doing with her.

If she had to take a guess, she’d wager that they want to employ her for some project, but— the real question is, what are they willing to do to get her to cooperate? She isn’t a specialist, she isn’t trained to withstand torture. The mere thought sends chills down her spine, and for a second she feels the urge to beg Grant to just turn around and bring her back.

Which is stupid, because he wouldn’t listen. Chances are he would laugh at her face.

“Above my paygrade,” he comments, drily.

Jemma shifts on her seat, testing the handcuffs once again, as if that could help with anything. If she ever makes it back, she’s going to ask for all operatives, no matter the division, to at least learn how to get out of bloody handcuffs. It’s a useful skill, one that she desperately wishes she had now.

Jumping out of a moving car wouldn’t be pleasant, but still, it’s probably better than whatever is waiting for her.

“Who are you taking me to?” she asks, although she doubts she’ll get an answer.

“That’s classified.”

She feels the urge to reach out and _punch_ him, because she’s heard that answer before, when she lamented his new collection of injuries after a mission and started asking what the _hell_ it is that they make him do to earn a living. He has no right to bring up memories of when he made sure to trick her into believing that he cared for her.

Grant looks— tense. He’s nervously drumming with his fingers on the wheel, the way he’s keeping his head straight and his eyes fixed on her road seems very forced, and overall he looks like he’s getting ready to punch someone.

If she were still inclined to believe that she _knows_ him, she’d say he isn’t happy with this. Against all reason, her stomach turns in hopeful expectation.

After a few minutes of silence, Grant mutters a curse, then he abruptly stops by the side of the road. Jemma is pushed forward, and if it weren’t for the seatbelt she probably would have smashed her face against the glass.

“What the _hell_?” she bursts out, turning sharply towards Grant, who has now twisted his torso to face her.

“I don’t want to bring you in,” he announces.

Jemma’s heart jumps in her throat. “I thought that was the whole point of you getting close to me.”

“Yeah, well, I turned out liking you a lot more than I originally planned,” he replies, offering a tentative smile. She just stares at him, hesitant to allow herself to believe him.

“Look, I have a plan,” he explains, quickly. “I’ve got a safehouse, it’s a three-hour drive from here, I think. There’s cash, and I know a guy who can get you a fake ID.”

“For what?” she frowns, pulling back slightly.

“To get out of here.”

“Can’t you just bring me back to SHIELD?”

He hesitates before shaking his head, his lips pressed in a thin line. “The people I work for— it runs deep, okay? I bring you back, I’m dead and someone else takes you.”

That sends a shiver down her spine. “Then— what would you have me do?”

“Get _out_. I can give you a list of good places to lay low, you choose one and go,” he explains, and Jemma is pretty sure that her head is starting to spin. He’s talking about _fleeing the country_. Leaving her _life_. Her friends, her work. What would she even do on the run?

“Like a fugitive?” she asks, tentatively.

He gives her an understanding smile, reaching out to touch her arm reassuringly. “I get it’s scary, but I promise, it’s the only way. So long as you are here, you aren’t safe.”

“I don’t even know where to _start_ —”

“I’ll help you,” he assures, and for a second the knot in her stomach eases.

“You’re coming too?”

He hesitates, pulling away, his eyes darting away from hers for a moment. “I’d love to,” he finally says, with a sad smile. “Believe me, I would, but— I can’t.”

“Why not?” she insists.

“I—I have— there’s someone, here. He’s my SO, we’re— close. He needs me here, I can’t leave.”

Jemma swallows, thinking back to how he said that if she went back to SHIELD that’d make him a dead man walking. That alone makes going back seem like an unthinkable option. “And what are you going to say when you show up without me?”

He shrugs, offering a cocky grin. “I’ll work it out, don’t worry.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jemma draws in a shaky breath. “I don’t think I can do this,” she confesses. “I can’t just— I can’t straight up leave my _life_ — I don’t even know how you are supposed to _act_ while on the run—”

“I can help with that,” he assures. He reaches for her hands, then he seems to remember that she’s still in handcuffs and he’s quick to take out a key and free her. “As I’ve said, we have a couple of hours ahead of us to get to the safehouse. I can give you tips, and you—you can take notes, I’m sure I’ve got something for it,” he adds, with a complicit smile: he’s always making fun of her habit of writing down _anything_.

She smiles a little in return, her eyes stinging because— well, she feels she’s entitled, it’s all a little overwhelming. In the span of a few minutes, she went from discovering that her boyfriend was lying to her the whole time, to realizing that she’s probably going to be tortured, to discovering that he doesn’t actually want to sell her out but if she wants to preserve her freedom – and his life, apparently – she needs to take his cash and start over god knows where.

There’s a good chance that she’ll have a nervous breakdown by the end of the day.

“You really can’t come?” she asks, because she knows that if she didn’t have to do this alone it’d be much more bearable.

He opens his mouth to answer, then he closes it. “I’ll tell you what,” he finally says, smiling and reaching for her hand. “Now I really can’t, but— as soon as I’ve helped John, I’ll find you, okay? You’ll just have to be a little patient.”

Jemma knows better than to believe in a specialist making promises for a distant future, especially considering that apparently he’s a double agent – god, there are _moles_ in SHIELD; that feels like a less pressing concern next to everything else, but she can’t help wondering who is secretly like Grant, who is safe in SHIELD and who isn’t, who it is that’s lurking in the shadows –, still, she smiles back and she silences her brain enough to feel like he’ll actually live up to it.

It can’t hurt to have a little hope, can it?

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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